Adventures in that cold dark

Coming from small town Ejmiatsin, the sun reminded me of its warmth. The dusty and the rustic. The decay of industrial Soviet Armenia. A toothless man sat by me on the small bus despite many other seating options. He asked where I was from. He tried to speak to me and a girl. His character kind despite the rough appearance that matched the surroundings. At one point I became the only person remaining on the bus. That warmth remained, but it no longer came from the sun. Once I stepped off, it was like I had entered a less forgiving world. One where I was again alone and void of warmth, void of the company of strangers. I was stopped off in isolation. In an environment that didn't care.

I felt the cold as the sun began to set. That golden light I had stood beneath before was no more. I began to see my breath in the air. Fingers growing red and stiff by the minute. That clenching of the fist one does when they start to notice the cold but it hasn't quite led to desperation. I knew I had to walk from here. And so I did. The light dissipating faster, the want to photograph remained. The want to continue adventuring beneath that warmth remained within thought, but that feeling prior led to memories faded within contact. Of the spring. Of the summer before.

I walked as the cold hit. As the sun was gone. Nothing but silhouettes remained in the distance. The new buildings. The mountains of shadow. Open space as people still felt so far and few between. This is the Armenia I remembered. The one I love. Where the chaos of the city is rarely felt, but echoes of a developing nation are seen throughout its landscape. I longed for the warmer days. For the ability to step and step without a cafe in the world as I did before. Nostalgia blended with the thoughts and removed the cold for a minute or two. Before the regret of not being closer to somewhere warm began. I wanted coffee.

The sun eventually disappeared entirely. Leaving me down quite streets with few lights. Cars driving by in near silence. Pathways iced over and ignored. No shop lights around beyond the odd market which sold a mixture of everything and nothing at the same time. I knew I had to go somewhere. I continued to walk, walking upward and through bending streets to a mall that resides on the outskirts of Yerevan. I roamed with warmth finally, as feeling returned to the body. But the want to be out there under the Armenian sun yet again didn't clear. I wanted more. I couldn't have it.

But this felt like a snippet of what was to come. To remind myself of the energy I had before the harshness of winter. Before the bad air quality. Before the comfort of home was too good to deny and escape from. Where those old stone buildings and crumbling roads that lead nowhere continue to call my name. And my camera sits idle upon a shelf, begging to follow in my steps and capture the sights I come across.
Theoretically the seasons should go around again eventually XD How long is winter there?